An unsuitable blog for a woman...

February 28, 2011

There are no parking zones, handicapped zones, fire lane zones, personal space zones, school speed zones, no passing zones, quiet zones, pet walking zones, end zones, no fly zones . . . I’m sure you’ve been able to think of a few more I’ve left out.

And, hey, let’s not forget the most famous zone of all--- The Twilight Zone.

As everyone knows, The Twilight Zone was a half-hour sci-fi/thriller television show that debuted in 1959 and ran until 1965. It’s creator was Rod Serling, a talented screenwriter who came out of World War II with a unique, and penetrating view of the world and the human condition. He wrote many of the screenplays for the show, but perhaps the most memorable thing about The Twilight Zone was Serling’s gravelly voice-over commentaries at the beginning and end of each show. His voice had the consistency of a wood rasp being scraped over a two-by-four. Serling was a heavy smoker and died way too young at age 50, but his bold use of irony and trick endings influenced generations of writers to come. And the twilight zone became so entwined in our popular culture that it is commonly used to describe things that are a little bit out of wack.

You've just crossed over... into the Twilight Zone.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time in what I call “the twilight zone” myself, mostly working night shift as a cop. As a patrol supervisor, I was responsible for assigning the officers under my command to various zones for the shifts. Cities are divided up into zones, or beats, for the purpose of assuring comprehensive coverage. An officer is responsible for handling those calls within his zone and must patrol that assigned area. Sometimes you’re assigned to the same zone for a period of time so you can get a better handle on what’s going on inside those parameters. Some zones are better than others, but everything kind of gets thrown off kilter when you enter “the twilight zone.” The twilight zone generally opens up during the wee hours of the night, when most normal people are sleeping and cops and hobgoblins rule the night. This brought about my locally famous quote of “Nothing good ever happens at two-thirty in the morning.”

Now I’m sure there are many people who would argue with my sentiment, but keep in mind that my statement is meant as hyperbole. But I can still remember driving around my zone waiting for the bars to close and seeing the glow of a television set through a picture window. Knowing that person was comfortably ensconced in his living room at the wee hours, while I was stuck in a cramped squad car patrolling the neighborhood and looking for trouble, used to engender a mild resentment. Why would anyone be up at this hour who didn’t have to be? Thus, I came up with the quote. Still, I too was there of my own choosing, and didn’t let it interfere with my job.

So let’s recap. Zones can bring organization to life, but they can also be limiting. Boundaries are assigned and sometimes there are penalties for breeching them. Sometimes we assign these boundaries to ourselves and fail to reach our full potential because we’re reluctant to venture outside them. Have you ever been urged to get out of your “comfort zone?” Sometimes you have to do just that if you want to grow.

Zones are useful when it comes to breaking something down into more manageable parts. They’re useful in setting parameters for your behavior. It’s good to remember, however, that zones can also limit your horizons if you fear stretching or moving beyond them. Where would we be if Columbus hadn’t stretched things and ventured across the Atlantic. But perhaps that’s not the best example. I’m sure there would be a lot of happy Indians if he hadn’t. But what I’m trying to say is sometimes you have to roll the dice and go for it, especially when it comes to writing. Find your voice. Get out of your comfort zone and take a chance or two. Or three . . . Or four. . . Use the zones to your advantage, and stretch your boundaries when you feel it’s appropriate. Don’t be afraid to take that chance if you feel it might be worth it.

February 26, 2011

Staci here to talk about tools of the trade. Really, I could list countless items, from notebooks to staplers to computer lapboards. But when I originally heard the topic, I immediately envisioned my ideal tools of the trade. You know, the setup I’d use in my fantasy world to write those brilliant masterpieces. It all starts with a spacious room on the second story of an old Victorian. The room has a wide window that overlooks a lake, or maybe a meadow where deer frolic. In front of that window, a large wood desk sits with a shiny new computer on top. To the side of the computer are a lined tablet and two fine-tipped pens, plus a highlighter to highlight all those must-have passages I’m going to jot down. There’s a pitcher of ice water on a side table, lemon slices floating on top. Or perhaps it’s freshly brewed iced tea, a nearby empty glass beckoning for me to fill it. And of course, the room is silent, allowing me to be alone with my thoughts, devoid of distractions. Those are the writing tools in my imaginary world.

In reality, I do most of my writing on my laptop while sitting on the floor, with my youngest crawling all over me, hitting random keys, and my oldest yammering in my ear. I must create coherent sentences while keeping peanut butter off my computer screen and stopping my toddler from chewing on his brother’s Star Wars figures. On the occasional Sunday, my husband will volunteer to watch the kids while I hide in our cluttered office for an hour or two. Hunched over the keyboard, I try to tune out my husband’s voice as he hollers, “Get away from the door, Jake. Mommy’s writing. Get your hand off that doorknob.” But I’ve adapted. I’ve finally admitted that I’ll never have the ideal writing spot, and definitely not the silence, so I’ll just have to make do with what I’ve got.

In fact, every now and again, I’ll find a moment when the kids are in bed and my husband’s not home, creating what should be the perfect situation in which to write. Last night was just such a night. And what did I do while my husband was at a work function and once my oldest finally stopped asking for water? Why I watched the White Castle episode I’d DVRed and worked on a puzzle book, of course. How could I possibly get anything done on my book in such a quiet house? I need the noise to focus. Does that mean noise is a writer’s tool? In my house, it is.

February 25, 2011

Each morning as I sit down at my desk to write, I give thanks to Shen Nung, who gave humanity one of its greatest gifts.

Shen Nung was an emperor of ancient China, revered for teaching his people the art of cultivating grain and for researching the medicinal value of herbs. He believed drinking water should be boiled to make it clean and healthy.

Legend says that one day in 2737 BC, while traveling through a remote region, he rested in the shade of a wild bush while his servants boiled a pot of water for him. A gust of breeze blew some leaves and twigs into the water, but the thirsty emperor drank it anyway. To his delight, the brew had a wonderful aroma and flavor.

The bush was Camellia sinensis, and the drink he discovered was tea. Shen Nung proclaimed it to be a beverage of many virtues. He claimed the person who consumed it would gain "vigor of body, contentment of mind, and determination of purpose."

Who can argue with an emperor?

I would add one more benefit to the list—tea stimulates creativity. My creativity, anyway.

A mug of tea is my constant companion through the workday. In the morning I like to be fueled by one of the breakfast teas—English Breakfast, Irish Breakfast, Ceylon Breakfast, though that last one is hard to find. I’ll take mine black, thank you—no milk, sugar, or lemon.

Later on I often invite the distinguished Earl Grey to join me at my desk. His namesake tea is the perfect pick-me-up in the late afternoon. For my birthday one year a friend gave me a fun present, an Earl Grey tasting: six packages of tea, each a different brand. I was surprised to discover how dissimilar they were—six very different flavors, even though they were all made to the same basic formula: black tea permeated with oil of bergamot.

I stop drinking tea around 6 p.m., in deference to my desire for a good night’s sleep. Tea does contain caffeine. Pound for pound it has more caffeine than coffee. However, tea gives you many more cups from a pound than coffee does, so cup for cup there’s less caffeine in tea. I’ve never noticed that drinking black tea in the evening really inhibits my sleep. But I prefer to err on the safe side, so my bedtime libation isn’t real tea but a minty or lemony herbal blend.

My kitchen cupboard holds several delicate porcelain teacups with matching saucers, and the cupboard is where they stay. You have to fill one of them three times to get enough tea to taste. I prefer a mug that has a generous capacity and a wide curve to the handle so it’s easy to hold.

Maybe it’s odd to think of tea as a tool of the writer’s trade, but to me it definitely qualifies. A tool is something that helps you accomplish a task. Without tea, I’d never get any writing done.

February 24, 2011

Ann Parker here, every other Thursday's child with the LadyKillers, working under a couple of screaming deadlines.I think Mary Anna said it when she noted that her brain was the most important tool. Without that, what good is anything else?Anyhow, I decided to run through the sites I've placed on my Firefox toolbar and list some of my favorite tools of the writing trade.

1. OneLook Dictionary is front and center. Why do I like it? Look at all the dictionaries you can access, all in one place! Plus, they have Webster's Revised Unabridged 1913 dictionary (very handy) and even Webster's 1828 dictionary, and the 1848 "Dictionary of Americanisms." It's amazing I get any writing done at all...

.... and a couple of blog sites, just to round this post off to a LadyKillers' "baker's dozen"

12. Author Ann Littlewood (who writes the Zoo Series mysteries) has a blog where she runs a series of posts about MicroSoft Word tricks of the trade. For anyone using Word, who isn't a super-expert, this is a very handy place to pick up some tips.

13. Blood-Red Pencil is full of editors and word enthusiasts who discuss a variety of editing/writing issues. Good tools to add to your toolbox there, as well.

Okay, I'm calling it quits so I can get back to writing. Do you have any favorite tools on your toolbar? Let me know. I'm always looking for more!

February 23, 2011

It's tough following Priscilla and her intelligent wit. I always feel like I should go back to school and study something scholarly. I'm glad LadyKillers has room for both of us for now!

So here's shallow Camille, whose sophisticated tools can be picked up at any Cute Shop.

I love office supplies. I love that I can justify office supplies as necessary tools of my trade.

Early on my husband figured this out and stopped trying to find just the right necklace or earrings and bought me a paper cutter for my birthday—white, with a red handle. Wow! My own paper cutter, like the ones only corporate offices and schools had back then. And mine was prettier than theirs!

I guess my gratitude was apparent because he's been sticking with the category ever since—an electric pencil sharpener, a supersize three-hole punch, an electric stapler, a postal scale, reams of colored paper, and "expensive" three-ring binders that don't eat your fingers when you open and close them.

I can't imagine working without my Vera Bradley folders, metal bookends in the shape of little people, and packing tape with an image of a zipper.

And an update to that old paper cutter: I now have one with a laser beam that shoots down the side, for perfect alignment, as soon as you raise the handle!

When I was a kid, pencils were green, binders were black, paper bags were brown, folders were manila, and mailing envelopes were white. The first sticky notes came in yellow only, with no clever sayings or die cut edges.

No wonder I lived an uninspired life for all those years, coming to writing only as an older adult. I needed color and florals and plaids to get me going.

Right now, I'm finishing two manuscripts, with deadlines one month apart. You'll see below that Sophie Book 2 (the second in my new Professor Sophie Knowles series) and Mini Book 6 (the sixth in my Miniature Mysteries) are in distinctly different colored binders. I can't imagine keeping them straight if they were both black.

Color and design are unlikely tools for a manuscript that will be simply Palatino 12 on white bond. But color-coding and a colorful environment work for me. I expect to finish the hot green manuscript this week, and the bright orange in 2 weeks.

Before I start the next book I'll go out and treat myself to the latest fancy folder.

February 22, 2011

Just kidding, although the ruling felines do force me to clean the keyboard more than I might otherwise be wont to do…

The other Lady Killers will have excellent suggestions so I’ll stay true to my rather odd nature and mention a good etymology book. That’s for you historical writers.

When I first wrote “Wine of Violence”, I knew enough not to have 13th century characters “turn off the lights” and, as a reader of historical fiction, I was aware that historical accuracy was important. I wanted to trust the author’s facts so did research to avoid that costume drama thing. What I didn’t know was just how carefully I had to watch my language.

No, I didn’t have my characters shouting “gung ho!” or “jolly good show!” but I did say that someone in the 13th century was “stymied”. Opps: nineteenth century golfing term. I am now in possession of both the Chambers and Oxford Dictionary of Etymology. This works for making sure the word used fits the century. To date, I have not had equal success in finding phrase history books, although “Word and Phrase Origins” by Robert Hendrickson is the most useful. Googling is also enlightening, sometimes more than I wished.

Freedom in word usage varies with the era. A writer of Roman mysteries isn’t going to do it in Latin. The Judge Dee series is just fine in English. In my case, I did rather luck out because, to paraphrase the talented Alan Gordon, 13th century English was as incomprehensive to Chaucer as Chaucer is to us. That means I can fudge a bit (any word in use before the 1500s is fair game), but I do have to watch it. Later periods in history have their own special pitfalls, but reading the literature of the era is the best way to get the rhythm, meaning, and accuracy of speech. For instance, if you think everyone in Elizabethan England spoke like Shakespeare, read Marlowe for quite the revelation.

Of course, there are so many other crucial tools of the writing trade. Chocolate comes immediately to mind….

February 21, 2011

We're ruminating on the subject of "tools of the trade" this week, here at The LadyKillers. An interesting subject, in that all a writer really needs is pencil and paper. Or a voice recorder. Or a computer. As long as we have a vehicle to convert the stories in our head into a format that can be perceived by other human beings, we're golden. When the day comes that somebody can implant an electrode in my head and let me beam my tales straight into the heads of others, then the process will have reached its most simplified state.

In the meantime, I need my publisher and he needs me.

When I sold my first book, ARTIFACTS, I made the business decision to pump a lot of my income back into publicity. This made sense to me, because I was not starting a business that required me to rent a store or buy inventory or hire employees (although a secretary would be nice) or build a manufacturing facility. I really have no other business asset but myself and my copyrights to my existing works.

I would have been hard-put to produce those works without my trusty computer, so that's an important tool. A printer is also a nice thing to have. I've got a lot of consumable supplies like paper and envelopes and ink cartridges and such in my office. At any one time, I've got hundreds of dollars of inventory of books I can sell at events like those I'm doing this weekend. (Romance Writers of America, Southeast Library in Jacksonville, Florida, Saturday, February 26, at 12:30, and Books, Inc. in Gainesville, Florida, Sunday, February 27, at 12:30. Y'all come!) But that's about it, as far as tools go.

Here's the way I see it. Stories are my only product. I am my only employee, and my brain is the only tool that I really can't do without. It behooves me to take care of that brain and the body in which is resides. Yet as a person who has been a mother for twenty-five years, I'm really not good at taking care of myself. It's very hard to do that when there are three people running around who really are more important to you than you are to yourself. But I'm trainable, and I'm working on this conundrum.

This makes me think of the old story about two men having a woodcutting contest. One man worked tirelessly for four hours straight, chopping down one tree after another. The other man disappeared for a few minutes every half-hour. The first man felt a bit superior. He was bound to win, because the other guy wasn't man enough to work for an hour without taking a break. Yet at the end of the contest, the "lazy" man won, because he had cut more wood. The loser asked him how this was possible when he had taken so many breaks. The winner told him that he had taken no breaks. He had spent that time sharpening his ax.

So I'm trying to learn to sharpen my ax. I've upgraded my diet lately--lots more organic veggies, a little less of my beloved caffeine, fewer meals out. I'm exercising more, taking walks and learning to dance. Just last night, I took a moonlight canoe trip. I'm putting music back in my life, playing piano and, just yesterday afternoon, attending a chamber music concert. I have ambitions to learn to meditate, but I have a storytelling brain. It never shuts up. Truthfully, it's very noisy in here. Still, maybe I can diminish the deafening roar a little.

This week, dear reader, I wish for you a little time to sharpen your ax.

February 20, 2011

Mary Anna Evans will speak to the St. Augustine Romance Writers Association on Saturday, February 26, at 12:30 pm in St. Augustine, Florida.

Mary Anna will also be signing at Books, Inc., on Sunday, February 27, at 12:30 pm in Gainesville, Florida.

TOOLS OF THE (WRITING) TRADE

Next up for topics: tools of the (writing) trade. Whether quill and inkpot, a well-worn thesaurus, or some really cool online "tricks of the trade," the LadyKillers will divulge some of their favorites this coming week. Join us and tell us about your own faves...

February 19, 2011

I had planned to write something richly detailed about guns, since I come from a long line of gun nuts, and my nephew is the world champion cowboy shooter in his class:

After the intro, you can skip to 1:15 and 4:44 for the shooting action.

I was going to wax eloquent about the flawless marriage of form and function--the beauty of a sight that's true, the perfect science in a controlled explosion that shoots the projectile out the front of the gun instead of blowing it up in your hand. Guns are machines that do one thing, and do it incredibly well. They seem perfect to me, like the magic of the internal combustion engine or a film projector's intermittent sprocket. I honestly feel that true joy is expressed in the complete marriage of form and function represented by a well-designed gun. I was going to tell you all about it.

But then I remebered burking.

ALERT: If you have a vivid imagination and a weak stomach, I'd stop reading right here.

There is nothing nice or beautiful about using your knees as a deadly weapon. Burking is named after Burke and Hare, two Irish canal workers who killed people in Edinburgh and sold the corpses to Dr. Knox for his use in a medical school. They killed more than a dozen people between 1827 and 1828.

With their knees. Mostly.

This was back in the age of debtor's prison and public executions/picnics, and at a time when it still was very hard to get cadavers to dissect. Ugh, I'm feeling ill...

Anyhoo, how it works:

1. Find someone drunk out of their minds, which I'm gathering from my reading about 19th century London wasn't hard to do. Burke and Hare also killed the old, mentally, ill, lame, blind, and very young. Double ugh.

2. Take them somewhere private, and give them more booze until they are passed out as needed.

3. Kneel on the victim's chest to provide compression, and clamp the mouth and nose shut. In 4-7 minutes you've turned a person with poor judgment, and preferably no family to miss them, into a corpse for sale. And there's no evidence of foul play, at least not at that time in the history of forensic science. If anyone knows if or when the relationship of suffocation and petechiae was discovered, please let me know.

Burke and Hare murdered people in their immediate neighborhood before getting caught with a corpse in the bed where they roomed. Not criminal geniuses. But fascinating as the barber of Fleet Street, apparently, as film and televsion and book projects continue to be produced about the pair--one movie as recently as last year.

Less than four years after the crimes were prosecuted, England passed the Anatomy Act, which made it easier for medical schools to obtain cadavers from sources other than murderers. Burking disappeared from the annals of murder history until Ted Binion's death in Las Vegas in 1999.

During the second trial for his murder, one forensic pathologist testified that Binion had been burked, but more than half a dozen other experts testified that he died due to overdose, which is a much smarter way to kill a drug addict like poor Mr. Binion. I prefer to think that burking never was revived, pardon the expression. It went the way of the asp.

They've made quite a few film, book, and television projects about poor old Ted as well. In his case, it was probably the millions of dollars of buried silver more than the burking that attracted peoples' attention. Yes, he buried a bunch of silver in a vault just before he died. Again, we are not talking about criminal geniuses here.

I thought about using burking in my current work-in-progress, which is set in Las Vegas and involves missing casino millions. But I really didn't want to remind anyone of this dreadful way of murder. Don't want to be responsible for reviving it, if you'll pardon the pun.

Is there any lesson to learn from this long rambling tale of deadly knees and murder? Only, perhaps, that everything is subject to the whims of fashion, even murder.